Trapped in Tenderness - Chapter 1

Cold air swept south early, and by October, frost had already begun to fall in Huaicheng. The nights were bitingly cold.

The Huaicheng Ballet Troupe building was currently silent, save for the dim light casting from the prisms of the practice room in the corner.

When she received the call from her lawyer, Jiang Man had just finished a few sets of barre exercises, her breathing still labored. Wrapped in a pure white leotard, her frame was slender and graceful, her long, straight black hair tied into a bun, revealing a fair, elegant neck.

“Ms. Jiang, the divorce agreement you asked us to draft is basically complete. However, there are still some details that need to be discussed with you. I wonder when you might be available for a meeting?”

“Tomorrow night. I’ll contact you later regarding the specific time.” Jiang Man walked over to the floor-to-ceiling mirror, a sudden thought occurring to her. “Also, about the divorce agreement… I don’t want anyone to know about it for the time being.”

“Rest assured, maintaining client confidentiality is a fundamental principle of our practice.”

After setting the time with the lawyer, Jiang Man hung up, only then feeling the damp sweat on her palms. She leaned against the barre, her strength sapped, her hands supporting her weight from behind to keep her from sliding to the floor.

She had been married to Qi Zhicheng for three years.

Three years ago, her father’s company was targeted by a Wall Street hedge fund called HK Fund. They were a rare breed of “activist short-sellers.” Jiangyuan Industrial was unfortunately targeted, and the firm released a meticulously crafted short-selling report that pinpointed the three vital weaknesses of her family’s business.

This logically sound report dealt a devastating blow to Jiangyuan Industrial’s market valuation. Its stock price plummeted, market value evaporated, partners terminated contracts, and the capital chain faced the risk of snapping at any moment. Her father, under the immense pressure, fell ill.

At her wit’s end, Qi Zhicheng found her and offered to help. He kept his word, arranging a top-tier public relations team to control the narrative and investing a massive amount of capital to bolster the stock. After a grueling battle between bulls and bears, HK Fund finally liquidated its positions and exited.

Today, Jiangyuan Industrial stands tall under the shadow of the Qi family, backed by the massive Qiheng Group. It has developed rapidly and has become a leader in the domestic construction materials sector.

The upper echelons of the social and business circles have always been a cruel, rule-less gladiatorial arena, where predators in the cage tear each other apart. And Qi Zhicheng, standing at the pinnacle of power, is clearly the final link in that food chain.

For these three years, Jiang Man has diligently played the role of Qi Zhicheng’s wife, obeying him, pleasing him. She knew how chaotic the lives of those in power were and was even prepared to accept a “marriage of convenience” with an “open relationship.”

What she hadn’t expected was that after marriage, Qi Zhicheng was not surrounded by the admirers she had imagined. Not only did he remain untouchable, but his possessiveness toward her grew stronger day by day.

Qi Zhicheng possessed a near-pathological exclusivity over her.

“Manman, I don’t like you looking at him.” “Why did you smile at him?” “Tell me you love me; I want to hear it right now.” “Kiss me. Sit over here yourself, or let me hold you choose.”

Under such suffocating possessiveness, Jiang Man felt like an insect trapped in a web, bound by silk, unable to escape.

Two months ago, Qi Zhicheng flew to the New York branch to follow up on a major project and hadn’t returned since. Their last conversation was ten days ago. He didn’t come to see her, and she didn’t take the initiative to contact him. Jiang Man thought that when he returned to the country, she would find a suitable time to hand him that divorce agreement.

Her thoughts drifted until her phone rang, jolting her back to reality. It was her husband, calling from New York.

Jiang Man took a deep breath, steadying her thoughts before answering. The moment the call connected, she couldn’t help but hold her breath. A deep, male voice came through the receiver, lazy and relaxed, tinged with a hint of fatigue.

“What are you doing?”

“Practicing dance.” Jiang Man answered truthfully.

“At home or at the troupe?”

“At the troupe.”

“Still at the troupe this late? I checked your schedule; there are no performances today.” He paused for a second, his meaning ambiguous. “Or is there something else?”

Jiang Man’s back stiffened abruptly. For no reason, she thought of that call with her private lawyer and that divorce agreement nearing completion. She adjusted her mood, trying to make her voice sound normal. “What else could I be doing? It’s just that the performance of Don Quixote is in a few days, and I wanted to practice more…”

“Manman, why are you nervous?”

She was startled. “N-no, I’m not.”

Fortunately, Qi Zhicheng didn’t pursue the topic. “Did you miss me?”

Jiang Man said a listless “Mm.”

“Lying.” He retorted, “If you missed me, why didn’t you call me?”

“Without even a message,” the man seemed to have walked to a window; the sound of gusting wind came from the other side. “Manman, is it true that as long as I don’t call you, you will never take the initiative to contact me?”

“I was just afraid of disturbing your work.”

“Lying again.” He sighed softly. “I wanted to see how long it would take for you to think of me, so I intentionally didn’t contact you. And the result? Manman, I waited ten days ten days without a single phone call from you.”

Jiang Man pursed her lips, not knowing what to say. The phone fell into silence, with only their breathing audible. The call continued, second by second.

After a long silence, Qi Zhicheng suddenly spoke: “I read a book today, and there is a sentence in it that I like very much.”

His voice was low, hoarse, and gloomily seductive.

“Bury you under me when I die.”

When I die, I will bury you beneath me.

It was an intensely insane and terrifying declaration of love.

As it was spoken lightly by Qi Zhicheng, Jiang Man felt an inexplicable chill and couldn’t help but shudder.

“A very romantic confession, isn’t it?” He sounded as flat and lazy as ever. “When I read this sentence, I thought of you.”

“Manman, even in death, we will be together.”

After a pause of several seconds, he asked coldly: “How about we use this for our epitaph in the future?”

He said “we.” Upon reflection, it was blood-curdling.

“What nonsense are you talking about,” Jiang Man laughed, feigning lightness. “We are both alive and well; why think about epitaphs? How unlucky.”

He chuckled softly: “Do you think I care about that?”

Jiang Man didn’t want to continue discussing epitaphs with him and casually changed the subject: “When are you coming back?”

“You want to see me?” A hint of a smile finally entered the man’s voice.

“Just asking.”

He said in a low voice: “As long as you say you miss me, I will fly back to see you right now.”

“Work is important.”

The phone fell into silence again. After a long while, he replied with a single, emotionless word.

“Okay.”

The call ended, and the dial tone echoed in the receiver.

The next day, after finishing rehearsal, Jiang Man changed her clothes and was preparing to meet the lawyer to discuss the divorce agreement when she received a call from her mother, saying there was a family dinner tonight and asking her to come over for a meal.

Jiang’s mother was insistent, and she couldn’t refuse, so she had to reschedule with the lawyer.

The family dinner was booked at a private club in the city center. It featured a new-Chinese style, elegant and trendy, with ink-wash paintings hanging along the corridors, embodying the ultimate oriental aesthetic.

Pushing open the door to the private room, Jiang Man froze upon seeing the man inside.

It was Chen Min. Her brother in name only. She didn’t know he would be coming.

Chen Min had been raised by Jiang’s father since he was a child; they had grown up together, childhood sweethearts, and her young girl’s heart had secretly bloomed for him. She had secretly held a crush on him for many years.

However, young crushes often end in nothingness. Before she could ever voice that affection, the Jiang family suffered its disaster, and that cautious crush came to an end.

As she stood there in a daze, Chen Min had already walked up to her, his gaze lingering on her face for a few seconds. “You seem to have lost a bit more weight.”

“I’m fine.” Jiang Man avoided his gaze and walked past him into the room. “Where are Mom and Dad? Not here yet?”

“Traffic jam; they’ll be late.”

Jiang Man said “Oh,” found a seat, and looked at her phone, remaining silent.

After some time, Chen Min, who was sitting next to her, asked softly: “Are you unhappy to see me?”

“No,” Jiang Man looked up and smiled at him. “Actually, I didn’t know you were coming either. Mom didn’t tell me.”

“I told her not to tell you.” Chen Min said, “If you knew I was coming, you wouldn’t have come, right? During the time I was touring in Huaicheng with the orchestra, I asked to see you many times, but you kept putting me off.”

Chen Min was silent for a moment, staring into her eyes. “Is it because of him? He doesn’t let you see me?”

Jiang Man knew he was referring to Qi Zhicheng.

This was actually true. After marriage, Qi Zhicheng’s paranoia and madness would flare up for no reason, especially concerning Chen Min. Her past affection for Chen Min had become a thorn in Qi Zhicheng’s heart that could never be removed. She couldn’t avoid him, so she could only stop seeing him.

“Just nearing the performance, a bit busy.” Thinking of Qi Zhicheng, Jiang Man felt an instinctive tightness in her chest and stood up to tease the small bird by the window. In the golden cage, the small bird was vibrant green with a tuft of royal blue feathers on its head, incredibly beautiful.

“Is that so? Is it that he doesn’t let you see me? Is it that you now have to have his permission to see anyone or do anything?”

“No, you’re overthinking it.”

“Am I really overthinking it?”

“If you don’t believe me, what else can I say.”

“Do you think you are equals in this marriage?” Chen Min’s voice sounded behind her. “You are Jiang Man; you have your own thoughts. You are not a canary he keeps, nor should you be an appendage to him.”

The man, who was usually gentle and calm, finally showed a flicker of emotion. He reached out to grip her shoulders, lamenting her lack of resolve. “You used to be bright and cheerful, full of life. What’s the difference between you now and a walking corpse? Are you so willing to be a puppet in his hands?”

These words pierced Jiang Man’s heart. She forcefully brushed off his hands and sneered, “What standing do you have to lecture me, and what qualifications do you have to teach me? I beg you, stop interfering with me, okay!”

“I am your brother; how can I not interfere?”

“You’re not my real brother.”

As the atmosphere reached a stalemate, Jiang’s father and mother arrived, standing at the door and surveying the two of them. “What’s wrong with you siblings? Fighting?”

Chen Min composed himself and smiled, explaining: “No, just that I didn’t bring Manman a gift on this trip back, and she’s blaming me for it.”

He was always like this. As gentle and elegant as ever, just like those countless times in their childhood, playing the role of a doting, indulgent brother to a spoiled sister.

Jiang Man just smiled and didn’t deny it. Chen Min had provided her with a step to step down, and she naturally followed it.

Jiang’s mother laughed: “How old are you, still pestering your brother like a child.”

The dinner was a family banquet, but in reality, it was also a celebration for Chen Min. Chen Min was an outstanding pianist; he had been invited to collaborate with the British Ross Symphony Orchestra for a world tour. Today was his final performance in Huaicheng, and tomorrow he would fly to St. Petersburg for the next stop on the tour.

The round table was decorated with exquisite peonies, accented with pale yellow begonia flowers. The Chinese-style dishes were diverse, steaming with heat. The atmosphere at the table was warm, and for the first time, Jiang Man felt the sense of family harmony.

Chen Min would occasionally chat with her, mentioning an exhibition of V&A ballerina-themed jewelry being held at the Huaihai Road Art Center tonight.

“I heard the exhibition features a new series of Ballerina 1940 brooches, one of which is inspired by Kitri from the ballet Don Quixote. Isn’t that the play you’re performing in a few days?”

“Mm.” Jiang Man nodded.

Chen Min stood up to serve her a bowl of chicken soup, carefully skimming off the fat. “Since the character you’re playing is Kitri, it’s said the dancer’s skirt is made of rubies and gold sequins, with an ingenious design. I think you’ll like it.”

He took the opportunity to extend an invitation, “Want to go see it together later?”

Jiang Man lowered her eyes and hesitated for a moment. She was just about to open her mouth when.

Suddenly, she was interrupted by a low, cold male voice.

“She doesn’t want to.”

As the voice fell, the private room door was pushed open from the outside, and a black figure strode in. The man who should have been in New York was unexpectedly here.

Jiang Man looked towards the sound, crashing straight into the man’s bottomless eyes. He wore a crisp, dark suit with a matching charcoal-grey diagonal-striped tie, covered by a high-quality black overcoat with double-breasted, peak-lapel design—classic business attire. He looked like an elite businessman who had just come off the negotiation table and rushed back to the country without stopping.

Qi Zhicheng’s sudden visit left everyone in the room stunned.

It was Jiang’s father who first rose to greet him, warmly inviting Qi Zhicheng to take a seat and asking the waiter to bring a brand-new set of tableware.

Qi Zhicheng greeted Jiang’s mother, sat down beside Jiang Man, and then turned his head to look at Chen Min: “I heard something about a jewelry exhibition. I never thought Mr. Chen, besides playing the piano, would also be a jewelry enthusiast.”

Chen Min: “Just a slight understanding.”

Qi Zhicheng leaned back carelessly, his posture lazy: “Just a slight understanding and yet so eloquent? If Mr. Chen were to change professions and become a salesman, you would surely be an excellent one.”

Chen Min’s expression shifted slightly.

“Just a metaphor,” Qi Zhicheng laughed. “I mean no disrespect; don’t take it the wrong way.”

He seemed to notice the bowl of chicken soup in front of Jiang Man, took a symbolic sip, then pushed it aside with disdain.

“Tastes bad.”

The atmosphere froze for a moment.

Finally, Jiang’s mother stepped in to break the deadlock with a laugh, changing the subject: “Why didn’t you let us know you were coming back to China? It’s just an ordinary family dinner; we thought you were still in New York, so we didn’t call you.”

“You said it yourself, it’s a family dinner. As Manman’s husband, I must be here. After all, we are family.”

As he spoke, he reached out to hold Jiang Man’s hand on her lap, smiling as he asked her, “Isn’t that right, Manman?”

Jiang Man tugged her lips, forcing out a smile.

“Oh, right.” He seemed to have thought of something, let go of Jiang Man’s hand, and signaled his assistant waiting outside the door to come in.

“I heard Mr. Chen’s performance was very successful, so I specifically prepared a small gift for you, to congratulate you on your successful performance.”

The moment the item was presented, the faces of everyone at the table changed drastically.

Pure white porcelain, enamel painted with intertwining lotus patterns, and the body of the pot engraved with gilded Buddhist sutras.

It was an urn.

Chen Min’s face was ashen, his fingers clenched into fists, creaking.

Jiang Man’s expression was no better, her brows knitted together, her eyes fixed on Qi Zhicheng, silently questioning him.

What exactly does he want to do?

“What’s wrong?”

“Why does everyone have this expression?”

Qi Zhicheng surveyed the circle, as if only then noticing everyone was pale. After a few seconds of silence, he burst into laughter. In the quiet private room, the untimely laughter felt particularly abrupt.

“You don’t think this is an urn, do you?”

He amusedly opened the porcelain lid and took out the tea brick inside. “This is just a tea canister.”

The tightly pressed tea brick was covered in original vintage labels it was a Snow Impression Green Tea brick from the early eighties, a genuine and valuable item.

Jiang Man breathed a slight sigh of relief. But she was still thoroughly frightened, her face grey.

Qi Zhicheng apologized for the unpleasant misunderstanding, stating he knew nothing of it.

“It’s my fault. I didn’t find suitable packaging in time, so I let my assistant handle it. I didn’t expect him to find such a canister. I apologize for causing everyone a misunderstanding.”

Jiang Man looked at the tea canister on the table that looked so much like an urn and frowned deeply.

The devil believes him. Without his instruction, the assistant would never have dared to act on his own.

The rest of the dinner was eaten like a bone stuck in the throat, and the interest was entirely gone. Yet, the instigator who had turned the meal upside down seemed completely oblivious, sitting calmly at the table, gracefully serving soup and dishes for his wife.

The family dinner ended in a hurry.

On the way back, Jiang Man sat exhausted in the seat, staring blankly out the window as the century-old sycamore trees along the street flew by. The black Bentley drove out of the bustling city area, and the surrounding scenery gradually became desolate.

Jiang Man realized this was not the way home.

“Where are we going?”

The man who had been closing his eyes to nap finally opened them slowly. “Taking you to get your third-anniversary gift.”

Jiang Man was stunned. She only then remembered that today was their third wedding anniversary.

So… he had rushed back from New York specifically to spend their third anniversary with her?

Her heart felt stuffy and uncomfortable, and she couldn’t help but think of that divorce agreement again.

The road the car traveled became increasingly remote, the streetlights thinner and fewer, until the Bentley reached a mountain road. As the pitch-black asphalt road wound upward, Jiang Man saw the lush vegetation on the mountainside and unique stone carvings one after another.

Actually, she was night-blind and couldn’t see clearly in the dim light. She only knew they seemed to be going up a mountain.

She glanced silently at the man sitting beside her; he still hadn’t said a word.

Where is he taking her?

What kind of gift is placed in such a remote place?

The car finally stopped at the top of the mountain. After getting out, Jiang Man saw an open space. There were no extra weeds; someone must have pruned it specifically.

However, the place was empty, save for some small pebbles—nothing else.

“Why did you bring me here?” Jiang Man asked, confused. “Where is this?”

“Our graveyard.”

As the man’s voice fell, the color drained from her face entirely. Her spine went rigid, her legs stiff as dead wood. Jiang Man suddenly remembered the stone carvings she had seen out the window in the car.

She then realized.

Those were not stone carvings, but graves arranged in neat rows.

“Happy third anniversary.”

Qi Zhicheng gently embraced her from behind.

“Third-anniversary gift, do you like it?” His chin rested on the top of her head, rubbing affectionately, incredibly intimate. “You like white, so we’ll make our tombstones white.”

“You are my wife; even in death, we will be together. Don’t ever think about leaving me.”